


The Bear

by hutchynstarsk



Category: Starsky and Hutch - Fandom
Genre: "the game", Gen, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:11:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchynstarsk/pseuds/hutchynstarsk





	The Bear

###  The Bear

[Related episode: “The Game”]

 approx. 3400 words.  Hutch's POV.  Gen.  Rated "G." :)

  


  


So we were playing our game.Starsky cheated—even without rules, he found a way to cheat. I’d have to find a way to get him back for that.Pretending to be shot, eh?Playing on my weak spot—worry for him, the one thing that could’ve ended the game early.With two weeks’ pay and my pride at stake, nothing short of that could end the game.

I left him a note to tell him he hadn’t fooled me, and high-tailed it out of there.

The thing that got me was Dobey and Huggy helping him.Call me ignorant, but I never thought they’d side with him like that, over me.Huggy, maybe, for a cut of the winnings—but Dobey?Man.I guess Starsky pulled his old charm routine, or maybe convinced the boss he deserved to pay me back for something or other.

Still, it kind of hurt.I’m not one to get overemotional, but sometimes I do overanalyze things.Starsky says that’s one of my big problems—I think too much.Well, I did that afternoon.Rest of the next few hours, I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Starsky’d pull that kind of thing on me, eh?Well, I’d have to find a way to show him.

Thing is, how do you pay somebody back for scaring you half to death?You can’t.Then again, I did pull that amnesia stunt a few months back.Maybe he told himself he was just paying me back.To me, the two are completely different.I was teaching him a lesson, yeah—dummy almost got me killed with his reckless driving—but I didn’t let him think I was dead.And I sure as hell didn’t do it for money.

#

The day went from bad to worse, if such a thing’s possible.I got worse and worse—stomach cramps, some kind of flu or something—till it caught me full on at the worst possible moment—when I was holding the bad guy at gunpoint.Yeah.Collapsed and everything.Now I was his hostage.And from the feel of my gut, something was going to bust soon.Maybe I’d be the one dead before the day was out. Truth is, I was hurting so much I almost didn’t care.

Would the girl call Starsk, like I asked?Would she even remember his name?She’d looked scared enough to faint when she ran out of there. Maybe she’d leave Pardee, anyway.

Pardee was such a moron.He kept waiting around for her to come back.And keeping me here.Then he was going to use me as a hostage—a man who couldn’t even walk on his own.

I was falling down the stairs when the sirens sounded.The Torino pulled up, along with some black and whites.Starsky’d found me.

#

They started the botulism treatment right away, and it wasn’t long before I started feeling better. Dizzy as hell, but like I’d survive—and want to.

Starsky came in to visit.“Hey partner.”He smiled down at me with that affectionate look that told me just how worried he’d been.He put a hand on my chest and gave it a little rub.“Feeling better?”

“Thanks to you.Hey. Good work.How’d you get Ernie to talk?”

He shrugged. “Wasn’t hard.”He looked embarrassed, like he didn’t want to talk about himself.His hand found mine and held onto it.He gets a little mother-hen if something happens to me.Like I do with him.

So, I’d misjudged him.He didn’t pull all that ‘Starsky’s-dying’ crap to trick me out of some dough.He was trying to save my life.I felt like a heel.

“I’ll sign over my next two paychecks, buddy.You won.”

“Nope.No way, Hutch.”He shook his ‘fro.“The deal was off the second that poison entered the mix.”He gave my hand another squeeze.“Teach you not to eat outta cans.”

Sheesh, pal, give it a break.I squeezed back, then pulled free.He was looking at me now, kind of embarrassed.Like he wanted to say something.“What?”

“I don’t want to play that game again, okay, Hutch?”

I let out a breath.“Sure, Starsk.Sure thing.”Tell you the truth, it had kind of palled for me, too.You’d think I could last for a few days without needing Starsk to rescue me.But then, botulism isn’t an everyday thing, either.I’d have done fine—maybe even won—without that.We’d never find out now.All my disguise skill gone to waste.

Like I cared anymore about that.It was just great to be alive.

#

I was leaving the hospital.Stopped at the gift shop and bought a brown teddy bear with a red bow tie for Starsk.

Now, you’re gonna call me sappy, and you’ll be right, but let me explain.See, his girlfriend—the girl he wanted to marry—died awhile back.It was real hard on him—like it would take a genius to figure that out.Well, she willed me her old teddy bear—a white number she kept on her bed.Left me a note, too, asking me to take care of the bear, and Starsky.Guess she equated the two, although Starsky’s no teddy bear if you ask me.

Thing is—and I loved the sentiment, just a beautifully sweet lady he lost there—even had me in tears, although I was drunk at the time—Thing is, she misjudged the situation.I didn’t need a stuffed toy to remind me to look after my partner.We’d looked after each other longer than she’d even known him.And I’m hardly a stuffed toy kinda guy.But I guess she didn’t know Starsky as well as she thought she did—at least in that one little area.Because he kinda is.

Yeah, the man’s a baby about some things.That car of his.Christmas.Toy trains.His ship models.And stuffed animals.He keeps a little blue dog in his drawer at work—at work! Where anyone could see it!

And one time we were concerned about this kid, and went to see the lady who’d handled his case to follow up.They had some stuffed toys there, I guess to comfort any little kid who showed up, and my partner, big tough Starsky, had to sit and hold a gray teddy bear the whole time.I’m surprised he didn’t walk off with it.

It would’ve given him a lot of comfort, I’ll bet, to have Terry’s old toy on his bed.Maybe he’d have gone to sleep hugging it for a couple of months.I don’t ask about things like that.But I know how tough it is to lose a lady you love.Yeah.

Anyway, you can’t give away a gift from a dead person, so instead I went out and bought a lookalike, gave that to Starsky.He didn’t say anything.Just looked at it, took it, and hugged it.

So now, here he was, and here I was, him deserving a soppy apology and me not having one for him.I bought the first stuffed toy I saw instead.

#

I left it for him on his desk the next day I got in to work.No note, nothing.But the second he saw it, his eyes flicked to me.He picked it up, slid it into his lap and sat down in one motion, like there was nothing odd about it.

We talked about a case for a minute.Then Dobey called.

“Starsky!Hutchinson!Get in here!”

Starsky glanced at me.“Now we get our chewing out.”He got the door for me.Dragged that bear in, too.He sat down on one of Dobey’s chairs, put his feet on the desk, and hugged the bear, his face expressionless and stony while Dobey chewed us out about the stupid hide and seek game we’d played.In retrospect, it did seem dumb.

“…Acting like little kids!Starsky, would you quit hugging that thing?!”

Starsky pulled his arms closer around the toy.

Dobey glared at him a moment, then apparently decided it wasn’t worth pursuing.“The thing that ticks me off the most is you went into it without a safe word.Why don’t you guys have something like that worked out, after working together this long?”

We exchanged glances.I don’t know if I looked as clueless as Starsk, but fact is, it had never occurred to me.You shouldn’t need a word to know if you can trust your partner.

But apparently, we do.

“Well, come up with something,” barked Dobey.“And get out of my sight.You’re lucky I don’t put you on traffic duty!”He harrumphed and went back to shuffling papers.

Yeah, right.Traffic duty would be a nice rest.He’s got too many cases and he knows we know it.Me and Starsk are in high demand here.

Maybe that particular threat would come over better if he wasn’t always bragging about how we’re his two best men.

Last time he put us on traffic duty was after my amnesia trick.And then I think he halfway did it just to give us a break—finish recovering, you know.We did get pretty banged around in that crash.

…Did I mention the crash was Starsky’s fault?

#

“Would you act your age?”

“Hutchie thinks I’m acting my age.Don’t you, Hutchie?”He addressed the toy bear as he tossed it into the air again, and caught it.

Two weeks.He’d had that stupid toy two weeks, and I swear he annoyed me with it more every day.He’d sit there with this stupid thing in his lap.Toss it in the air, like he was doing now.And talk to it!Did I mention he named it “Hutchie?”Yeah.I was about ready to take the both of them apart with my bare hands.

I tried calm.“Starsk, would you finish your report so we can get out of here?”

“Yeah, yeah.”He set it down on the desk and turned back to his typewriter, started pecking at the keys.

I stole another look at that stupid toy.Mustard stained its right paw.The bowtie hung at a permanently disreputable angle.The eyes were glazed where they’d gotten scraped.Thing looked like it had a hangover.Starsky finished his report, leaned back in his chair, and started tossing it in the air again.“I think Hutchie’ll be my new partner.He’s a lot nicer than you are.”He tossed it especially high in the air, and missed.

An officer on his way into Dobey’s office, walking behind, caught the toy as it fell behind his chair.He handed it back without a word. “Thanks,” said Starsky, and started tossing it again like this was nothing insane at all.The cop didn’t say a word.But he glanced back on his way into Dobey’s, and I caught his expression.Amused, tolerant, superior.He was laughing on the inside.He caught my eye for a second, and the laugh was still there—this time sharing it with me, like the two of us could mock Starsky together.

I snapped a pencil in half and turned back to my report, with my best icy calm face.

That evening, I spotted the janitor.On impulse I turned back.“Forgot something,” I told Starsk.“Meet you in the parking lot.”He raised a hand and continued without me.I caught the janitor, slipped him two bucks.“Take care of that stuffed bear for me, will you?Hide it or something.”

“Sure thing.”He folded the bills up quick, stuffed them between his belt and a belt loop, his eyes opaque.

#

“Hey.Hutch.Where’s my bear?”He was looking all around for it, a clueless, blank expression on his face.“It was here last night.”He bent down, peering under his desk.“Look under there.”

“Starsk, it’s not here.”I hoped the janitor had hidden it good.

He forgot about it while we patrolled.But when it was time to write our reports, he was back to looking for it.I had to remind him twice to get his report written.And even then he seemed preoccupied over that stupid toy.“You don’t think somebody woulda stole it, do ya, Hutch?”

“No.”

He stood up.“I know.The janitor might’ve seen or moved it last night.I’ll ask.”

Great.I got up and followed him.“Starsk, the man has work to do.And so do you, I might add.He doesn’t need you bugging him.”

“Only takes a minute to ask.‘Xcuse me.”He walked up to the janitor, who already had his mops out for the evening.“You seen that bear on my desk?Brown, red bowtie?”He gave one of his ingratiating grins.“I seem to have lost it.”

The man gave him a blank, pale stare.Kind of creepy looking, actually.Then he reached into his trash bin—oh, dang, no—and pulled out—a horrible parody of Starsky’s bear.

Soggy.One eye missing.Burned on the side.Half the stuffing missing and more falling out.

“It was in the trash when a little fire started.Someone must’ve thrown it in there on accident,” said the janitor, looking like he meant every word.“Had to throw coffee in to quench the blaze.Didn’t put it all out, so I picked the thing up and banged it on the floor a few times.Unfortunately it started coming apart.Since it was in the trash anyway…” He shrugged.“You want it back?”He held the abomination out.

Starsky stared at it, his face completely blank.

Uh-oh.

“No thanks.”He turned and walked down the hall.

“Gimmee that.”I jerked it from the man’s hands.Spongy, oozing teddy bear, smelled charred and of stale coffee.Ugh.“Thought I asked you to hide it—not destroy it.”

The janitor shrugged and picked up one of his mops.

“Hey Starsk.Starsk.”I caught up with him.“I’ll buy you a new one, huh?”

“Don’t bother.It’s just a dumb toy.”

Still expressionless.Worse and worse.Starsky is an emotional guy.He’s never really devoid of expression unless he’s hurting.Hurting—over a dumb toy?But I couldn’t discount my senses.And it had looked pretty gruesome, like some kind of teddy bear torture.

“Starsk.”I gripped his arm.

He pulled free, turned on me.“You coulda just said, Hutch.You didn’t have to throw it in the trash.”

“I didn’t.”I did worse than that.“I paid him to hide it.Honest, Starsk.Just thought he’d hide it.”Why was I apologizing like this, to my five-year-old partner?I felt like the world’s biggest heel—like I really had stolen a toy from a kid.

He looked at me for a sec, patted my arm.“S’okay.Don’t worry about it.I need to start acting my age more anyway—apparently.”He gave me a grin, not a real one, and turned away, sadder and older somehow than I liked to see him.

_Great._ _Good work, Hutchinson._

#

I stopped at a toy store on my way to pick him up for work the next day, and bought a shiny new bear.I tried to pick the one with the least disreputable stare.It had burnt orange fur and a yellow ribbon tied ‘round its neck.He opened his door, yawning.

I shoved the bear into his hands.“Here.”

He stared at it for a second; dropped it on a table near the door.“Thought I told you not to bother?”He sauntered out of the apartment, giving me a tough guy clap on the back.

Yeah.

He’s been like that all week.Tough guy Starsky.I mean, he is tough, but it’s been like there’s been something underneath all week, since the Bear Incident.Something I can’t explain, but you can feel it underneath when you’ve worked with someone as close and as long as we have.And I’ve been feeling like a heel.

I tried to make it up to him.Let him pick the restaurants for lunch—twice—when I should’ve insisted on going somewhere healthy.I’ve really been falling off my diet lately, gaining weight, starting to feel like a slob.Worst of all, I seem to be grumpy all the time.I’ve got to get back to salads and healthy shakes, kick the sugar and starch.

“Hey.They’ve got a new toy train.”I nudged my partner as we passed the toy store.“You want to stop?”

“Nah.That’s okay.”He kept walking, his saunter getting tougher by the second.

My tough guy partner.How could I have gotten so annoyed with the little-kid aspect he sometimes showed?I knew by now he’d had a tough time as a kid, grew up faster and sooner than he should’ve had to.You’d think Vietnam would’ve killed off whatever was left of his little-kid persona, but nope, it still surfaced again and again.

_Until you managed to quash it._ _Nice work, Hutchinson._

So I did the only thing I could do.I started fixing that dumb, busted teddy.

First had to take all the stuffing out, wash it real carefully and let it air out for a week till the smell got less pungent.I re-stuffed it, sewed it up.That took some doing—I’m not exactly the greatest with a needle.I guess I could’ve asked my current girlfriend for some help, but 1) she didn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d know how to sew, and 2) then I’d have to explain to her what this was all about.And I was too ashamed to do that.

Wasn’t much I could do about the eye, since it wasn’t a button but a glass one.So I sewed an eye patch over the blank spot.The burnt spots also presented a problem.I solved that by cutting up an old rag of a shirt I’d torn recently.It made a perfect little shirt for the bear, although again, more needlework than I’d have thought I could handle. I sewed that on, and got most of the mustard stain out, and then it was ready for Starsky.Battered, bruised bear, but back.

I saved it for the weekend, to give it to him away from the station.

#

I stood in front of his door, holding the bear, feeling about as masculine as a pink teapot.I unlocked the door and went in.Looked around the place; no curly-haired partner.“Starsk?”

“Just a minute!”His reply came from the bathroom, followed by gargling.He came out wiping his hands on his pants and kicked the door shut behind him and gave me a smile.“Hey, Hutch.Waddya want to do today?‘Cuz I was thinking ‘disco chicks!’”

“Sounds fine.Hey.”I caught his arm as he started past me towards the kitchen.

“Hm?”He looked at me with his trusting blue eyes.“Wassamatter?”

“News about a friend of ours.Turns out he’s not dead.He just changed professions.”

“What friend?What are you talkin’ about?”

I pulled the bear out from behind my back, and gave it a little shake in front of him.

“Hutchie?”Starsk took the toy, a grin starting, incredulous, across his face.

“Yeah.He’s a pirate now.”I gave Starsk a pat on the stomach and walked past him to the kitchen.Got myself some orange juice.And waited.

“Hey.”Starsky’s voice, low and a bit husky.He caught me from behind in a big bear hug and squeezed, hard.“You old softy, you.Mm!”

“Starsk!”I got free and shoved his shoulder.“Lay off.”

“Hey.”He leaned against the kitchen table and grinned at me.“I won’t be such a baby anymore.Promise.”He drew a cross over his chest.“Don’t wanna embarrass you.”

“Starsk.”I sighed.I knew I was gonna regret this tomorrow.“Just be yourself.You put up with the annoying things about me—”

“’At’s for sure!”

I frowned at him.“…so I guess I can put up with the annoying things about you.”

He jerked his head in a little, satisfied nod, still grinning.“All right.Hey, you wanna go out for pizza?”He smiled at me hopefully.

“For breakfast?You’re insane, you know that?”

He grinned happily. “I’ll drive!”

<<<>>>

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